Evil Deception
by DevonxDeadly
Summary: Hermione Granger travels back to the time when Tom Riddle was becoming the future Lord Voldemort. She is left with the responsibility of saving the future and all of the people in it, or killing the past. All the while, the Dark Lords fascination grows.
1. Chapter 1

**Evil Deception**

Past: October 1, 1943

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was more than eerie. It was creepy. Due to the Christmas holidays, more than half of the students living there had gone home; leaving behind a very disgruntled Tom Riddle. Riddle never returned to the orphanage that he had lived in his entire life for holidays. He didn't mind the loneliness. In fact he welcomed the solitude. Since becoming Head Boy, he had been able to walk around the school during the late ours of the night not having to worry about being caught. Since the "tragedy" of last term had ended he had become even calmer. No one had discovered his secret, blaming the brainless oaf Hagrid had been a wonderful turn of events. He was glad, however, that he had ended the attacks on the Mudbloods before the school had to be closed. Yet, if he had had his way, all of them would be gone from the castle.

It was nearing midnight and he did not feel the need to return to his room. The haughty Lilia Hoppkins would probably be sitting in the Common Room, with one of her "boyfriends". Lilia Hoppkins wasn't bad looking, but the fact that she wasn't bad looking made no difference to Riddle. It was the fact that she kept trying to seduce him, along with every other guy in the school. Glancing at him when she thought he wasn't looking, sitting to close for his comfort and occasionally "accidentally" brushing her hand on his thigh. At meals she would practically sit in his lap, whispering suggestions into his ear until he felt sick. When he was fed up with her, he would stalk away from the table, glaring daggers at anyone who looked at him. Sometimes she would follow him, but he would always lose her.

The moon was full and shone on the grounds, revealing everything in sight. He walked slowly, savoring his freedom. Turning a corner he ran into someone. The force of the impact sent the young man to the floor, leaving the older man standing. "Tom? What are you doing out so late?"

Looking up, Riddle saw Albus Dumbledore, the current Transfiguration teacher offering his hand to him. Rather than grasp the man's hand he pushed himself off the ground and dusted himself off. "Just walking around, Professor." He replied in a cold voice. Riddle did not like being walked into. Checking to make sure that everything was in order he stared at the professor, sizing him up. Dumbledore's hair was still brown, but he looked like he was beginning to age. His beard was longer and he had more lines on his face, but he still had that annoying twinkle in his eyes.

"Not good to be wandering the corridors alone, Tom. Not good at all." Dumbledore said, a hint of suspicion in his soft voice. Riddle stared right into his eyes and shook his head.

"The attacks have ended, Professor. Why would we still need to be afraid?" he replied with a smug grin. Dumbledore sighed and stared at his pupil. The young man before him had grown much quicker than he should have. He remembered when he had first met the boy, the rumors that the woman who ran the orphanage where he was at the time still rang clearly in his thoughts. Tom Riddle had not been like other the other boys who attended Hogwarts. Always seeking solitude, wanting more and more knowledge, bringing together a group of 'followers' that thought they were actually friends of the poor boy.

"Because Tom, danger still lurks around every corner. Besides, we have no proof that the attacks have ceased. Unless…" he paused, gazing into Riddle's black eyes, "you know, who _actually_ led these attacks?" he continued, stressing actually.

Riddle stiffened for a moment, '_Is the old fool accusing me? What could he possibly know?_' were the only thoughts running through his head.

"Are you accusing me, Sir?" he asked, his tone smooth yet icy.

Dumbledore smiled at him then, "No Tom, I am merely asking you if you know anything."

Riddle shifted in his feet and shook his head. Dumbledore stared at him a few more seconds before placing his hand on Riddle's shoulder and saying softly, "Very well Tom. You should get back to your dormitory." Removing his hand from the boys shoulder he walked off, not looking back at the dark haired, dark eyed boy. When he was out of earshot Riddle muttered, "Crazy loon…" and marched off to his dormitory.

* * *

Present: September 25, 2006

_Cries of pain and anguish were erupting around the battlefield. Hexes and curses were being tossed through the air as the members of the Order of The Pheonix and Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters battled one another in the battle to end all other battles. Many wounded and dead lay on the ground, while the living struggled against one another. Hermione Granger and her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were fighting along with the Order. But as one Death Eater feel, another seemed to take his place._

_"Hermione, I need to get closer to Voldemort!" Harry shouted to her, while battling a particularly difficult Death Eater. To busy to answer him, she merely nodded; dodging curse after curse the rogue Death Eater was shooting at her. The battle was beginning to tire the brunet out; sensing this, the Death Eater sent a killing curse at her. She dodged it easily and sent a curse back at him. The spell made perfect contact with his chest, making him crumple to the ground, his heart permanently stopped._

_Hermione glanced around to see how her friends were faring, when her eyes met cold, infuriated red eyes. She froze on the spot; she would know those eyes anywhere. Harry had described them to her many times; how they had once been normal, but were now permanently red, with slits for pupils. They were the eyes of Lord Voldemort. 'Oh no…' she thought as she saw the eyes turn away from her and gaze, hatefully, at the figure of Harry, who was now battling a new Death Eater. She saw the hateful sneer cross his snakelike features, his wand being pulled from his robes and being pointed at his foe. She saw the evil words of the killing curse form on Voldemort's lips and a sudden dread filled her. Harry had his back turned, he wouldn't be able to dodge it. He was to far away to hear her scream of warning as the green light shot forward..._

_The world seemed to slow as Hermione watched her best friend in the whole world swivel around to face the green light, having no time to react. As the light enveloped him she saw his eyes widen in fear and then fade, becoming blank and distant. Tears formed in her eyes as she watched his body fall to the ground. Screaming his name she ran towards him, but was stopped by a cold hand grabbing her arm and pulling her back towards him. She gazed up into the hateful eyes of her friend's murderer._

_"You can do nothing for him now, Mudblood. You should be more worried for yourself though. No one, not even a filthy Mudblood like you kills my Death Eaters and lives." Voldemort hissed into her face. She shuddered involuntarily. She glared into his eyes, every fiber of her being screaming hate for the hateful monster._

_Just as Voldemort was about to kill her, a stunning spell was shot at him. Voldemort dropped her arm and turned to face an enraged and crying Ron Weasley. He sneered at him, his cold voice dripping with revulsion and hate, "You think that I would be affected by that, you filthy Blood-Traitor?" All Ron could do was stand there and stare at him, his gaze matching Voldemort's. His gaze darted quickly to Hermione and then returned to Voldemort._

_"Go." Was all that she heard him say before he sent a killing curse at his opponent. Hermione didn't hesitate, she turned and ran away from the two of them. When she was a good deal away she stopped and stared back at them. A moan came out of her mouth when she saw that Ron's body lay face down in the dirt, unmoving and unnaturally stiff._

**x-X-x**

October 5, 2006

2 weeks after the battle Hermione was standing in No. 12 Grimmauld. She looked around her room, her gaze blank and haunting. Harry and Ron's funerals had been hard for her to endure; not eating anything and barely sleeping was beginning to take its toll on her.

Lupin and other members of the Order were beginning to notice her changes. She had become sullen and talked to people less and less. Slipping into quiet reveries and sometimes going unconscious for days at a time. They begged her to eat and sleep, but neither came easy to her. Every time she ate she threw it back up, a problem which muggle doctors referred to as Bulimia. When she tried to sleep Harry and Ron's faces would come to her. Blank and cold. She couldn't stand to see them like that, so she forced herself to stay awake.

She took to the library many times a week. Always looking for something to drown her sorrows with, but none of the books there were comforting.

**x-X-x**

Hermione awoke one cold morning to a tapping at her window. She walked to the window and allowed the tawny brown owl to swoop in. A large package tied to its leg. She removed the package, allowing the owl to fly back out the window, and placed it on her bed. She sat across from it and opened it with trembling hands. The letters written across it were familiar, like she had seen them before.

Tearing the paper away she was startled to find a worn book laying there. She picked it up and flipped to the first page. Instantly, a letter addressed to her fell out; placing the book back on the bed she opened it and gasped.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_As you may know, by the time you are reading this, I will either be dead or dying. In this book, contains the knowledge that I have gained in the last 20 years of my life. These pages contain the information, spells and secrets to stopping Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I must ask that you do not show this book to Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley, as I felt that this should be shared with only you._

_Please use this information wisely._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

Realizing that she had been holding her breath she inhaled a deeply. Gazing at the book, she snatched it from the bed and flipped back to the first page. The book was fascinating enough, the spells complicated and the information startling. Here in the very pages she was reading Dumbledore described Tom Riddle and his days at Hogwarts, the spells he had used on various people. Unable to stop reading, she soon found herself gazing at a Time-Traveling spell that would take the caster back to any date in time. As she read what would happen after it was cast she sucked in her breath, _this was the answer_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Present Day: October 6, 2006

Hermione woke to a very rainy afternoon. Looking over at the alarm she groaned. 5:30 P.M. She had spent almost all night slaving over the book Dumbledore had left her. The spell seemed simple enough, though the effects would be disastrous if done wrong. All she needed to do was wait for a solar eclipse to occur, seeing as how magic was at its strongest during that time. She had then looked to see when the next eclipse would happen and to her greatest joy, one was occurring in 1 day.

Sighing, Hermione pulled herself out of bed. Walking over to her armoire she pulled out a comfortable sweater and jeans. She dressed quickly and pulled her unkempt hair into a messy bun. Looking over herself in the mirror she noticed that she had become unnaturally thin. She didn't like this change. Her cheeks stuck out way to much, her eyes were hollow; with dark circles ringing them. Her hair had many split ends and looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks. Sighing again she walked over to her bookshelf and pulled down a worn copy of Illusions and Tricks to Enhance Your Appearance. Flipping through the pages she reached the spell that would change her appearance to what she looked like before Harry and Ron died.

"Changez l'aspect." She murmured. The spell literally meant "Change Appearance." '_Must be French_' she thought before turning to look at the mirror. Her hair had returned to its normal bouncy curls, flowing down her back in waves of dark chocolate. She had filled out more and her eyes were no longer haunting. Absolutely normal. Giving her reflection a small smile, Hermione turned away and walked out of the room.

**x-X-x**

Murmurs could be heard coming from the kitchen when Hermione walked down the stairs. She paused, afraid that the people she loved would see through her illusion. She let the fear pass through her and disappear before stepping through the swinging door and into the warmth. Everyone turned their heads toward her and smiled. She looked like herself again, but they could tell that she still held sadness in her heart; she might forever.

"Morning." She said as cheerfully as she could. Replies of 'Morning 'Mione' and a 'Wotcher 'Mione' from a solemn faced, bubble-gum pink colored hair Tonks filled the room. No one could look her straight in the eyes. For some reason this annoyed her to no end. Clearing her throat, Hermione walked over to Remus Lupin and whispered so that just he could hear her. "I need to talk to you. Later. Not now." She added after she saw him about to get up. He smiled weakly at her and nodded.

Turning around she walked over to the pantry and pulled out her wand. Moments later she had a hot cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal sitting in front of her. She ate quietly, pausing every now and then to look over at the people who were watching her. Waiting for a mental break down of some sort to occur.

When she was finished, she piled her dishes and with an inclination of her head walked out of the warm kitchen and into the cold hallway. Walking up the stairs, she entered the library pausing to grab a book off of the armchair and plopping down onto the sofa by the fire. As she emerged herself in the book she didn't notice someone sidle into the seat next to her. The person sitting next to her shifted slightly, but not as quietly as they had hoped to. The sound of pants scratching against the leather of the armchair brought Hermione out of her dream world.

Remus Lupin smiled at her. He looked much older than his age of 35 I don't really know how old he is. So just 'pretend' that he's in his 30's ;); gray hair and bags under his dull eyes. Lupin had also changed a lot since the death of Harry and Ron. He too had become more downtrodden, staying away from people as best he could; but that tactic didn't work to well for him. Now that he was the leader of the Order of the Pheonix, he had to see people regularly. And with the full moon approaching, he had become more panicked.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about Hermione?" he asked her curiously.

Hermione paused before answering, "I got a letter from Dumbledore last night. Yes I know he's dead, but he wrote it before he died. I just now got it." She added hurriedly when she saw the werewolf's startled expression. Licking her lips she continued, "Along with the letter he also gave me a book. A book that has a lot of spells that would be very useful to helping the fight against Voldemort." Lupin looked puzzled now.

"So that would mean, Dumbledore found a way to kill Voldemort?" he asked hurriedly. The thought was of course, impossible. Harry had been the only able to kill Voldemort. No one else could take his place.

Hermione shook her head. "No, he did however find a spell that will take the person back in time to whatever date they need to go to," She paused again; hesitant about what she would say next, "and I'm going to use it to go back to Voldemort's seventh year at Hogwarts." Cringing as the last words came out of her mouth, she turned her face away from Lupin's astonished gaze. Her plan was fool proof. Go back in time, kill Voldemort, and come back to a happier future. A future with Harry and Ron. Her heart leapt at the thought.

"H-Hermione. How could you decide to do that?" Lupin stuttered. Turning to look at him again, she sighed.

"I decided it because I don't want to live the rest of my life in fear. Harry and Ron didn't want it, so I'm going to change this future. I'm going back to Voldemort's seventh year and I'm going to kill him. With or without your help." Her voice was no more than a whisper, but steadily grew louder. Lupin cringed, he knew that once Hermione set her mind to something, she wouldn't drop the task until it was either finished, or had back-fired on her. But he also knew that she was in pain, and thinking irrationally. How can I help her when I know that she will not listen to me? he silently asked himself.

Looking her in the eyes, he saw the familiar glint that she got when she was determined. Smiling slightly, he leaned forwards and took hold of her hands.

"How can I help?"

* * *

October 7, 2006

The room was softly lit, giving off a warm glow that made her body feel warm and safe. The rest of the occupants in the house, aside from Lupin and Hermione, had all gone out. Lupin having told them that Hermione and himself were working on a Top-Secret project that only they should know about at the moment. No one had questioned them, only mumbled their assent and left. Leaving Hermione and Lupin to prepare themselves for the eclipse that would occur soon.

"Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this Hermione?" he asked her for what seemed like the millionth time. Turning away from him she rolled her eyes; nodding her head firmly to show that there would be no more questioning her judgment.

Taking the book from it's place on the table Hermione ruffled through the pages until she reached the spell.

"We have to pick a date before starting. I was thinking that maybe we should use October 15, 1943 as the date." Lupin nodded his assent and she continued, "So besides the eclipse we are all set to go."

"Don't have to wait anymore, 'Mione. The eclipse just started." Lupin pointed to the window. Sure enough the moon was sliding into position over the sun, creating a night within a day. Something that only occurred every 2,000 years.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Hermione picked up a piece of chalk that was required for the spell. Normally, time-traveling spells did not need portals to go through, but this one didn't seem to be a normal. Drawing a medium sized circle on the ground she stepped back. Lupin handed the book to her and glanced at her pale features.

"It'll be ok Hermione. Just concentrate and everything will go smoothly." He sounded like a father, soothing her. She smiled at him, reassured by his words.

Stepping into the circle, she spoke the words that seemed to take forever to say.

"Reis naar de tijd die ik heb gezocht." A sharp pain rendered her unable to move. Hermione felt like she was being sucked into a compressioned chamber, unable to move and breathe. And then it was all over. Her world went black and she knew no more.

Lupin watched, astonished at the sight before him. After Hermione had said the spell a faint blue light had emitted from the circle on the ground. Growing brighter and brighter before it enveloped her completely. When it disappeared he saw that she was gone. Traveling through time to the seventh year of Tom Riddle; soon to be Lord Voldemort.

**Ok. CHapter 2 is up and running. Hopefully you will tell me what you think ;). You won't have to wait long for chapters anymore. Not like on **


	3. Chapter 3

_"Reis naar de tijd die ik heb gezocht." A sharp pain rendered her unable to move. Hermione felt like she was being sucked into a compressioned chamber, unable to move and breathe. And then it was all over. Her world went black and she knew no more._

_Lupin watched, astonished at the sight before him. After Hermione had said the spell a faint blue light had emitted from the circle on the ground. Growing brighter and brighter before it enveloped her completely. When it disappeared he saw that she was gone. Traveling through time to the seventh year of Tom Riddle; soon to be Lord Voldemort._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Past: Hogwarts -- October 15, 1943

The bell rang throughout the school, signaling the end of classes. Students rushed about, some heading down to the dungeons, others heading towards the Grand Staircase that led to the higher levels of Hogwarts. Tom Riddle was one of the students heading to the higher levels.

His actions received several questioning looks, but he shot them down with one glance. He was in an especially foul mood. One of the girls in his class had had the gall to say that she had spent the night with Hogwarts Slytherin Prince. The rumor was of course, untrue. Tom Riddle would never have taken a second look at her, much less bed the insufferable witch. The girl was no more than a gossip, hoping that he would make her another of his many conquests, but seeing that he had no interest, had taken the opportunity to make up the lie and gain 15 minutes of popularity.

Riddle ground his teeth together. The thought about her spreading that rumor infuriated him to no ends! He would have to deal with her in some way. Show her what she had gotten herself into. No one messed with Tom Riddle and got away with it.

His footsteps bounced around the empty corridors, leading him to some unknown destination. Just as long as he could think and decide what to do. While he walked he went over his thoughts, but stopped when he found himself in the Astronomy Tower.

'_Of all the places to end up…_' he snorted, striding over to the window and gazing out at the grounds.

Riddle sighed, slumping to hang over the ledge. Why did he even stop the attacks? He questioned himself. It would have been such a big help. Then he wouldn't have to deal with gossiping girls and anxious Death Eater cronies. He sighed, there was no way to open the Chambers again; not with Dumbledore still hanging about. The basilisk in side would just have to wait for him.

He was about to turn and leave, his thoughts all cleared up, but anger still remaining; when he saw a bright blue flash come from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He stared at it for a few more moments before turning on his heel and half running, half striding down the hallway to the Grand Staircase.

He met several Death Eaters along the way, but shook them off. He had to find out what that blue light was, desperately needed too.

After striding out the doors, he ran towards the direction the flash had come from. Upon reaching his destination, he skidded to a halt. There on the ground was the body of a girl. Her hair was spread out around her in chocolate colored curls. Her face was pale, with delicate features. He could see that underneath the strange clothes she wore, she had a mature body for girls her age.

He continued to look down at her, before regaining his senses. Scooping her into his arms, he ran back towards the school and the Hospital Wing that lay inside.

**x-X-x**

"Do you know who she is, Professor?" Came a distant voice.

"No, Poppy, I am afraid not." Another answered.

Hermione groaned in pain. Her body felt like she had been put through the Cruciatus Curse several times over. Opening her eyes slowly, she found herself in a stark white room, surrounded by tall figures.

"Ah," came one of the voices, "she awakens."

The room was swimming in front of her blurry eyes, but soon came into focus. Above her stood none other than Albus Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling and a smile upon his face. Another person stood next to him and Hermione also recognized the kind face of a younger Madame Pomfrey.

"How are you feeling my dear?" The later asked gently. Hermione smiled weakly and went to sit up, but Dumbledore pushed her back down.

"You mustn't strain yourself just now. You must have been through quite an ordeal." He said softly, his hand still on her shoulder. Hermione struggled to gain control of her brain. Where was she? Dumbledore was supposed to be dead, and this man before her was certainly not dead, younger of course, but not dead. And then she remembered. The spell she had cast at Grimmauld Place, the pain and then nothing else.

"W-what y-year is it?" She stuttered. Her throat hurt beyond all imagination, but she chose to ignore it.

Dumbledore looked at her in mild curiosity and surprise before he said, "1943."

A grin spread across her face as his words rang out around her. "It worked."

**x-X-x**

"Settle down now students! Settle down." Headmaster Dippet shouted over the clattering and talking in the Great Hall. He stood at the front of the Head's table, hands clasped behind his back, his face set in a smile.

The talking immediately ceased.

He stared at them for a few more seconds before clearing his throat and continuing, "Now, as you all know the Dark Lord Grindlewald has invaded France," This sent a ripple of fear throughout the students, "As a result of this, we have a new student joining us. Her family was attacked by Grindlewald's followers. She is the only survivor." His face turned serious. No one moved.

"Please, give a warm welcome to, Ms. Hermione Granger." The Great Hall doors opened and a girl with chocolate colored curls entered, her head held high. She walked with the grace of a Pureblood, but most of the students had already figured out that she was a Muggleborn. No one in the Wizarding World had the last name 'Granger.' Everyone was watching her as she made her way towards the Headmaster, never once breaking eye contact.

Everyone was watching, including Riddle.

When she reached the Head table, Hermione stopped and shook the old man's hand. He smiled at her warmly, before allowing her to stand beside him. "Albus, the Sorting Hat if you please." He asked Professor Dumbledore, who disappeared for a few moments, then came back bearing the Hat and stool that McGonagall had used in Hermione's first year.

"Ms. Granger." Dumbledore murmured, indicating that she sit down. Complying, she sat on the stool and waited for the Hat to be placed on her head.

"Ah," cam a voice in her ear, "I see we have a Time-Traveler in our midst. You have already been placed in Gryffindor, I see. But what's this? You do not wish to go back among the lions? I see that you have a very large intellect. Perhaps Ravenclaw? No. No, that wouldn't do. You need to get closer to the quarry you seek. Hufflepuff wouldn't do either. That leaves only Slytherin." The Hat chuckled at this. "I see that you are very eager to help your future. But just remember, sometimes, when fighting for a cause, we lose ourselves along the way."

"SLYTHERIN!" The Hat shouted for the whole Great Hall to hear.

A/N Ok. Another chapter . Hopefully it wasn't too short \. If it was, just tell me and I'll make sure to make them longer xD. On other notes... sorry it took so long to update. The Document thingy on here is acting up so I couldn't post anything. I've had this chapter for a while now.

Anyways...R&R peoples!

xx Devon 3


	4. Chapter 4

**Evil Deception**

By: DevonxDeadly

**Chapter Four**

Past: Hogwarts – October 15, 1943

Silence radiated around the hall. No one moved, or even breathed.

Hermione took the moment to pull the hat off her head and place it on the stool. She glanced at Dumbledore before walking swiftly towards the Slytherin table.

Before reaching the table, she studied the people sitting there. A head of familiar blonde hair caught her eye and she stared directly into the face of Abraxus Malfoy. He in turn, stared dumbfounded at her. Her eyes moved down further and found many other people that sired Death Eaters.

When she reached the end of the table she sat in what little space was left and glared back at her fellow housemates.

The silence was beginning to unnerve her, so she grabbed the food in front of her and began to fill the plate. Her plate had enough food for her to intake without throwing it back up, so she began to eat; ignoring the looks the Snakes were giving her.

Taking her notion, other members of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw began to eat; the chatter slowly rising until the roar was once again in her ears.

She noted that none of the other Slytherins would eat the foods she had touched and she grimaced inside.

'_Pureblood asses…_' she growled in her mind, finishing off her plate and standing. They all watched her as she walked away from the table and out the door.

Along the way she passed a boy with dark hair and a pale complexion. His eyes were turned on her, dark and cold. His brow was furrowed in thought, but she ignored him.

One boy was nothing compared to a house full of angry Slytherins.

**x-X-x**

A Mudblood in **his** house? A **_Mudblood_**? The whole thing was so ridiculous that he almost laughed. It was completely impossible, but the impossible always seemed to happen when he was around.

His thoughts plagued him as he walked down the corridor, Abraxus next to him.

"It does seem ludicrous does it not, My Lord?" he asked. "A Mudblood in Slytherin." He added.

"Yes, Abraxus, it is very ludicrous." Riddle murmured.

'_Very ludicrous indeed…_'

They stopped in front of the wall leading into the Common Room. Stepping through to the other side, Riddle sat on the couch and released a sigh. His normally cold demeanor slipped for a few seconds as he allowed the fire to spread its warmth.

Ignoring Abraxus, he looked around the Common Room. Only a few of his housemates were out. Many of his Death Eaters were probably eagerly awaiting the next meeting.

Pens and quills were scattered around on tables and chairs, dropped haphazardly, as if the owner had just decided to throw them around.

Abraxus opened his mouth as if to say something else, but closed it. He sat staring at the fire before turning back to Riddle and asking:

"When will the next meeting be, My Lord; if you don't mind my asking?" he whimpered the last part. Nothing was worse than an agitated Lord Voldemort.

Riddle glanced at Abraxus, his lips curled in a smirk. He was quite proud that he could instill this fear in his followers. It reminded him of the dominance he held over them. The power.

"Soon Abraxus, very soon, but – "He was interrupted by a head popping into the fire place. He stared at it, getting a close enough look to realize it was Dumbledore's head.

'What does he want?' he mused silently. "Professor?" he called aloud.

Dumbledore's head swiveled to meet his gaze. Even in a fire, the mans eyes seemed to burn with infinite knowledge. "Ah, yes, Tom, very good. I was looking for you actually. Hoping you could come down and escort our newest student to the Dungeons." He said pleasantly.

Tom nearly rolled his eyes, but instead answered: "I would be more than happy to, Professor. I shall be there momentarily." He stood from the couch and strode towards the stone wall leading out of the Common Room.

"My Lord!" Abraxus called after him. "Would you like me to accompany you?" But he received no reply.

**x-X-x**

The Granger girl was pacing when he entered Dumbledore's office. The shadows from the fire were cast upon her, masking her face so that he was unable to read her expression.

"Ah, Tom. You have already heard of Ms. Granger. Ms. Granger, this is Tom Riddle, our Head Boy." Dumbledore greeted him jovially. The girl stopped her pacing and nodded her head in his direction. He could see a small flash of hatred cross her eyes before disappearing. She extended her hand, which he shook reluctantly, and then turned to Dumbledore.

"Professor," she said in a soft voice. "I will see you tomorrow during class. Thank you for all your help today."

"Nonsense Ms. Granger," Dumbledore replied, smiling at the girl. "Be sure that you are on time however, there are many things that will delay you on your way to class. Have Tom show you around tomorrow, I'm sure he will not mind; will you Tom?"

Riddle stiffened but nodded his head.

The girl smiled at the Professor before turning towards the door, opening it and walking away; Riddle following suit.

They walked for some time, the girl looking around her and Riddle staring straight ahead; his face set in a stony expression. They turned a corner towards the Gryffindor dorms, but the girl stopped before the portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress; a sad look on her face.

"Hurry it up will you?" he growled through clenched teeth. The girl did nothing more than glance in his direction before turning and walking ahead.

"Bloody Mudblood…" he hissed. He had meant to say it to himself, but she seemed to have heard because she stopped.

"What did you call me?" she growled.

Riddle smirked and said, "I called you a Mudblood. That's what you are, aren't you?" He walked past her.

"I wouldn't be talking…Half-blood." She whispered. This time it was his turn to halt. Slowly, painfully it seemed, he turned to face her; his eyes wide.

"W-what did you say?" he croaked. His body was completely cold. How could this girl know his deepest darkest secret?

"You know what I said, Riddle. Now as much as I enjoyed our meaningless snips of conversation, it's late and I've had a long day. I would appreciate some rest." She made to move past him, but he grabbed her arm in a pincer like grip.

"How dare you assume that I am a no good, dirty Half-blood!" he roared. Several of the portraits gave indignant 'humphs' of irritation at being woken; one wizard in particular shouted "keep it down, bloody teenagers."

She glared up into his dark green eyes. "Don't. Touch. Me." She hissed.

"What do you know?" he whispered, afraid someone would overhear.

"Know about what?" she asked innocently.

He squeezed her arm tighter, enjoying the look of pain that flitted across. "About me, you filthy Mudblood."

"Nothing! I don't know anything." She whispered. But he saw the flicker of hatred in her eyes. He knew full well that she couldn't hate him just because he was manhandling her.

"Liar."

"Let me go! I don't know anything!" she screamed.

Releasing her arm, he let her walk past. But not before muttering, "You better watch your back Mudblood. You do not want to mess with me."

They reached the common room moments later. Cold and silent. As she turned to go towards the Girls Dormitory she whispered towards him, "You don't want to mess with me, Riddle."

**A/N: Ok. Here's the latest chapter Make sure to review and tell me what you think!**

**xx DevonxDeadly**


	5. Chapter 5

**Evil Deception:**

By: DevonxDeadly

**Chapter Five**

**Story Summary: **Evil deals in deception. One by one. Hermione Granger travels back to the past to change her future. Along the way a certain Dark Lord puts up obstacles to gain her. Will she be able to break her chains, or live in the future she created?

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot sniff

Past: Hogwarts – October 16, 1943

**The **castle was cold and dark as Hermione walked around the corridors. Her footsteps were echoing slightly, causing her to wish she had worn quieter shoes. But despite the clacking of her heels against the cold stone, she was in complete and utter silence. Dumbledore had given her the day off to go into Hogsmede and buy herself some casual clothes and robes. Instead of heading straight to the village, she had decided to go round the castle and relive her memories.

Her meeting Tom Riddle had not gone as well as she had hoped it would. She knew this would be difficult, but – damn this was almost **too **difficult. Hermione knew that it would take some time for the future Dark Lord to get used to her presence. Meanwhile for her, she just had to come up with a full-proof plan. One that would lead to a bright outcome for the future. She had resolved herself to the fact that if she had to, she would kill Tom Riddle. Thus killing his future counterpart.

The only question that was left to her was, if the time came for her to kill him, would she be able to do it? Would she be able to kill someone who had not yet done the horrible deeds he was bound to do in the future? Could she be a murderer?

Her feet carried her past the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. Past the statue of the One Eyed witch and close to the bathroom where Moaning Myrtle would be living in the future.

'_Myrtle…_' Her feet stopped. Turning her head back, she looked at the Girls Lavatory door. Turning on her heel, she pushed the door open gently. She walked in, her eyes scanning the dimly lit room for any signs of human activity. Seeing, and hearing no one, she stepped in fully, letting the door swing shut. The sinks and stalls were still the same as they were in her time. The only thing that was different was the sense of death hanging around. As if someone had been murdered recently.

Her eyes wide, Hermione walked forwards toward the circle of sinks. She knew which one to look for, Harry and Ron had showed her the opening to the Chamber of Secrets a few days after her release from the Hospital Wing in their Second Year. Her fingers brushed lightly over the smooth porcelain until she reached the tap that had the snake on the side. Bending down, she scanned her eyes over the tap, looking for the flaw. Her fingers found it before her eyes did; the small snake carved in. She pulled away from it, her eyes hooded, her thoughts deep.

"So it's already happened." She murmured. The Chamber of Secrets had already been opened, the Basilisk released. Myrtle had been killed and Hagrid expelled. It had already happened. Hermione could feel a sense of dread brush over her. If the Chamber had already been opened, then what else had happened? Had Riddle already created two of his already destroyed Horcruxes? If he had, then what one had he created? The Diary or the Ring?

The questions buzzed around in her mind like bees. So many to answer. As she walked around the sinks, more and more came to mind. One jumping out at her. Where was Myrtle?

As if on cue, a sob came from behind her. Whirling around, wand drawn, Hermione came face to face with none other than Moaning Myrtle. She didn't seem any different, maybe more forlorn and depressed – if that were possible. She seemed totally unaware of Hermione's presence as she glided silently from the door to the stall she was always in. Hermione, wanting to get out as quickly as possible before she started to go into one of her hysterics, turned to go; but accidentally stumbled on her robes.

She gave a small yelp as she tumbled forward, just managing to grab onto the sink before her face hit the floor. She heard a ripping sound and glanced at her torn hem. Now she would definitely have to go buy new robes.

"What are you doing in here?" a sad voice asked. Hermione glanced up sharply at Myrtle, who was floating in front of her face. She didn't look angry, but more along the lines of shock and surprise. Were people already steering clear of the bathroom?

"Um –"

"Come to laugh at me?" Myrtle whimpered out. "As if I wasn't ridiculed enough when I was alive. Now I have to be ridiculed in death too."

"Oh, no. No, I'm not here to make fun of you." Hermione answered hurriedly.

Myrtle glanced at her sharply. "Then what are you here for?"

Hermione glanced around the bathroom. "I came to use the loo. I didn't want to disturb you, so I was trying to leave quietly. Obviously, it didn't work." She stood, dusting her robes of and straightening them out. Glancing back up at Myrtle, she smiled and said, "I'm Hermione Granger."

Myrtle's sad eyes widened in surprise. "I'm M-Myrtle Edmund." She stammered out.

Hermione smiled again. "It's very nice to meet you Myrtle. May I ask, if it won't be prying, why you were crying?" she asked politely.

Myrtle looked even more surprised. "I was crying because Olive Hornby was, was talking about my death with another girl."

Hermione frowned. "Your death?" she asked, acting as if she didn't know what Myrtle was talking about. "You say it as if it was recent."

Myrtle nodded. "Oh, yes. It was just last year in fact."

Hermione gave a gasp of mock surprise. "Oh my! What happened? If you don't mind my asking." She added hurriedly, watching the splay of emotions on Myrtles face.

Myrtle's eyes turned distant, the surprise ebbing away. "I was sitting in that stall over there," she pointed to the stall she had been about to enter. "When I heard a boy's voice. I opened the door to tell him to go away, when… I died." Her voice cracked as she said the last part. Hermione had heard this story before, but nodded her head.

"What an awful tragedy." She murmured. Myrtle glanced down at her, her thick glasses magnifying her eyes.

"Yes…yes I suppose, it was." She murmured distractedly.

"And what were you doing, in the bathroom?" Hermione asked, again.

Myrtle's eyes flashed. "I was in here crying. Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses, but you know Olive Hornby. Always making fun of me."

Hermione gave her a wry smile. "I'm actually new here, so I've never met Olive Hornby. She sounds like a truly awful girl though." This, she realized, was the truth. Anyone who teased someone else and spoke badly about their death must really be an awful person.

For the first time in her presence, Myrtle smiled. "Yes. She's the most horrible girl I've ever met."

Hermione giggled before glancing at her watch. "Oh! How time flies, I'm sorry, but I have to run. I need to run to Hogsmede and buy some new robes." She looked back at Myrtle's disappointed face.

"Will – Will you come back, to visit? You're the first company I've had since my death." She asked hopefully. Hermione thought for a moment. Should she come back? Someone might see her and wonder what she was doing.

'_They would think you are going to the loo, fool_.' A nagging voice in the back of her head reprimanded her.

"Of course I will." She said, smiling at the look of joy on Myrtle's face. She stepped over towards the door and turned to wave at her. When she waved back, Hermione pulled the door open and stepped out. She leaned against the wall for a moment before muttering, "That was one of the oddest conversations I've ever had."

"Do you make a habit of talking to yourself? Or is it just a one time thing?" a cold voice asked her.

Jumping in fright, Hermione turned to look at the speaker and came face to face with Tom Riddle.

'_One odd conversation to another_.' She mused. Ignoring his question she asked, "Do you make it a habit to stand outside the Girls Lavatory, Riddle? Or is it just a one time thing." She secretly smiled at the look of irritation on his face. It was easy to upset him, easy enough that she found it positively delighting.

He sneered at her. "One would think that since **you** stand outside of Girls Lavatories **and **talk to yourself, you might be mad." His cold eyes swept around the scene, taking in the closed door. He glanced down and saw her torn hem. "What on Earth did you do to your robes?"

She glanced down, as if noticing it for the first time. "Hmm. I must have torn it when I arrived." She looked back at him, "What are you doing here, Riddle?" she asked curiously.

His eyes flickered with irritation, but he covered it well. Crossing his arms over his chest he said, "Looking for you, actually. Professor Dumbledore requested that I show you to Hogsmede. Seeing as how you don't know your way around yet."

She stiffened at his words. "I don't need your help." She said coldly.

Amusement flashed across his face. Pushing himself away from the wall he had been leaning on, he walked around her, as if studying her features before coming to stand in front of her. "You don't like me." He stated plainly.

"And how could I?" she murmured. "You man handled me on my first day here. How would **you** appreciate that?" She glared into his eyes before glancing over his body. "Besides, you don't like me."

"Oh, but your very wrong there," He murmured. "I actually find you…_fascinating_. To arrive on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, unexpectedly and by a flash of blue light nonetheless! It's very interesting isn't it. And then you reveal something that not even my closest friends know." He smirked as her eyes widened. "Yes, I am a half-blood. Funny, really, that the new student at school knows something about my heritage and I have never met her."

Hermione shifted her feet. "I'm a very good judge at people's… bloodlines." She responded weakly.

Riddle tutted. "Now, now Granger. No use making up excuses on the spot." He pulled closer, "I intend to find out how you know what you know. And what other knowledge you have." He whispered in her ear. She shuddered slightly, but didn't pull away. "I **will **find out. Make no mistake of it." He pulled away and gazed at her from hooded eyes. She released her pent up breath, but didn't look away. She wouldn't show fear, not to this snake.

"Shall we go then?" she asked after a moment's silence. Riddle smirked and walked past, his robes brushing against her arm. A jolt of shock brushed through her body, spreading from her arm to her feet. She gasped at the sensation and stumbled slightly. Riddle looked at her curiously, but she ignored him and what had happened. She would save it for a later time.

* * *

"_You can do nothing for him now, Mudblood. You should be more worried for yourself though. No one, not even a filthy Mudblood like you kills my Death Eaters and lives." _

She was tossing and turning, slipping in and out of the dream. All the while, Voldemort was there. His evil red eyes staring at her, his breath tickling her ear. She could feel his arms holding her to his body, making her watch her best friend's corpse.

Suddenly, the dream changed so that Tom Riddle was the one holding her to him.

"_You won't be able to escape Mudblood. Lord Voldemort sees all."_

As abruptly as it changed, it ended. Hermione sat up, gasping for air. The window to the girl's dormitory was open slightly, letting in a small breeze. It blew gently across her fevered skin, cooling her instantly. But it could not stop the shaking. It was uncontrollable, unnerving; the nightmares. All too real.

She pushed her sheets and blankets away. The alarm on her bed read 11:40 P.M. But she wouldn't be able to sleep again, not with the dream weighing on her conscience. Standing, she walked over to the wardrobe, her legs shaking. Pulling out a skirt and blouse, she dressed quickly and walked out of her room.

It turned out that the Slytherins, unlike the Gryffindors; each had their own separate bedrooms, seeing as how the dungeons expanded the whole length of the castle. It was always dark and cold in the bowels of the Earth. Hermione felt like she was trapped underground, unable to escape to the surface in which she had been accustomed to.

She walked for sometime before she came to the Common Room. She had worn quieter shoes; she didn't need any of the other Slytherins waking. It would be a disaster - for both of them. Her footsteps muffled, she slipped along the many passageways and turned until she came to a familiar corridor, one she, Harry and Ron had visited many times in their 5th year.

The Room of Requirement lay on the far outstretch of wall. Her breathing was relaxed, but started to become shallower with each step. What did she want to visit the Room of Requirement for? What would she see? She could feel the familiar buzz of questions forming in her mind. What if she saw their lifeless bodies? She gulped; she wouldn't be able to handle it.

'_Risk.'_ Yes, she would have to risk it. Standing firmly in front of the wall, she began to think of what she wanted to see. Deciding on seeing a library, she began to pace back and forth, focusing on what she wanted.

Moments later, the door appeared and she slipped through. Rows of bookshelves spread across a massive room, row after row of knowledge. She would have been shocked and astounded, had she not seen something similar to it. Walking over to one particular shelf, she pulled a small book titled '_History of the Four Founders_' off the shelf.

'_Interesting_ –' she mused silently.

A loud –CRACK– behind her, forced Hermione to drop the book. She spun around to see the room changing from a library, to a sitting room of sorts. Thinking quickly of an invisibility cloak, which appeared instantly before her, she swung it around and ran towards a corner. Whoever was coming into the room needn't know she had been out past hours, and in the Room no less. She could get in serious trouble.

Her breathing was short, but silent as the door opened; revealing Tom Riddle. Her eyes widened in surprise, but before she could call out to him, he strode in accompanied by no less than 12 other boys. Seeing the other boys there, all cloaked in black robes, made her blood run cold with fear and realization.

The 12 boys were the first **_Death Eaters_**.


	6. Chapter 6

**Evil Deception**

By: DevonxDeadly

**Story Summary: **_Evil deals in deception. One by one._ Hermione Granger travels back to the past to change her future. Along the way a certain Dark Lord puts up obstacles to gain her. Will she be able to break her chains, or live in the future she created?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the wonderful world of Harry Potter -sniffle-

**-6-**

**H**ermione yawned somewhat loudly during breakfast that morning. Many of the Slytherins cast disapproving and hateful glares at her, but she ignored them. After what had happened last night, she was too exhausted about what the consequences would be. Slytherins were above hurting their House members, but when your newest House member was a Mudblood – there were exceptions to the rule. Hermione remained oblivious to all this, only focusing on what had occurred, and how it halted her plan; for now.

She had returned to her room after her little trip to the Room of Requirement and, unable to sleep, began to prepare for breakfast. Not once had she looked over at Riddle, or any of his followers. But she knew they had been looking at her. It had been a curious event last night, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. Focusing on the there and now. As she finished up her last piece of bacon, she stood and gathered her books. Classes were going to begin shortly, and she was severely excited, but also nervous as well. She had heard that NEWT students studied with Boggart's. Of course, she had believed this to be a rumor, but while she had been passing the 7th year classes, she had heard cries of 'Ridiculous'. She wasn't frightened of Boggart's, just what they would reveal to the other students.

"Granger."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see who had called her name, and was met with the cold green eyes of Tom Riddle. She inwardly groaned, not wanting to be anywhere near him.

"Riddle." She said, nodding her head in acknowledgement, although she did not falter in her steps. "What can I do for you?"

He watched her closely before replying, "Professor Dumbledore has bestowed upon me that task of bringing you to your first class." His voice was cool and calm, covering up the disgust and loathing she knew he must be hiding underneath.

"Well then," She began to speed up. "As I have already told you, I have no need for your help. So I am terribly sorry to have created trouble in your life."

The atmosphere in the corridor became icier as he quickened his pace as well. "Duty is duty, Miss. Granger. And, despite how I would rather I'd rather not, I always do as I am asked. I believe you are headed towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom?"

She halted in her steps and stared at him. "Yes, I am."

"Then that is exactly where I am headed." He replied, stopping as well and looking at her with the usual smirk on his handsome features. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, ignoring the look of irritation that crossed his face. Pushing past him, she began walking again. When she reached the end of the corridor, she stopped and looked back at him, pretending that she didn't know which way to go. Riddle walked over to her, sending a smirk at her, which she ignored.

They walked corridor after corridor, before finally coming to a stop in front of the Defense room. Riddle, acting like a gentleman, opened the door for her. She gave him a forced smile before turning into a look of disgust. The room had not changed much, the stone walls and floors still remained bare. The only difference was the lack of decoration. In all her years at Hogwarts, her Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom had never gone without a theme. Professor Quirell had chosen the 'Garlic' induced theme. Lockhart had chosen himself as the inspiration. Professor Lupin had been the most avid decorator, brining in new creatures to study. The fake Mad-Eye Moody had gone way over the top with his décor; filling the room with every Dark Detector imaginable. Umbridge had chosen the girly theme – much to Hermione's horror and distaste. Snape, the greasy haired git, had gone for his usual Dark and oppressive theme.

But now, the room was left almost barren and empty. The only decoration that could be found was the painting above the teacher's desk. A castle, much like Hogwarts, stood in the midst of a storm on top of a rocky cliff. Hermione, one who had never been particularly fascinated with art, was completely enthralled with this painting – for reasons unknown. The colors just seemed to blend so well with each other, standing out and yet fading at the same time. Riddle, who had not noticed she had stopped to stare at the painting, continued towards the front of the desks, which was widely known as the Slytherin side of the classroom; even in her time. She didn't notice him pause, and look back at her, realizing that she wasn't next to him.

"Granger?" He asked her, staring at the painting as well, a bored expression on his face. She turned to look at him, forgetting about the painting. When he only looked back at her, she roller her eyes slightly and walked over to the Gryffindor side of the room. His eyebrows rose as he watched her, but she took no notice. She was about to put her stuff down when a throat cleared next to her. She looked up and met Abraxus Malfoys' smug face.

"Sitting with the lions, Mudblood. And I thought you could sink no lower." He turned away from her and went to sit by Riddle, who only continued to look at her, one of his eyebrows raised. She blushed and was just about to make a retort when she remembered that she was in Slytherin, and no longer a Gryffindor – _well_ in mind she was a Gryffindor. It had been pure habit that had sent her to that side of the room, moving now seemed like her being a Slytherin, would be final. She brushed past Malfoy and sat near the back of the class, ignoring the looks she was given. Riddle, watched her until she sat down, and then sat down himself. A few moments later, the bell rang and a tall, gray haired man walked into the room. He gave off the aura of one who was not easily messed with. A set of dark gray robes billowed around him. His gray hair was stuck out in odd places, giving him a look like that of the muggle scientist Albert Einstein. He had a wiry mustache and thin eyebrows. All in all, Hermione knew this was not a man she would want to cross paths with.

"Good Morning, class." He said in a cold, stern voice.

"Good Morning, Professor Merrythought." They said back.

"As you have read, you are going to be performing spells on Boggarts…" He began, but Hermione was no longer paying attention. She had looked over at Riddle, and begun to think about last nights events. Completely forgetting about listening to the lesson.

_Hermione stood, watching the boys shuffle in – their black robes swishing about them as they formed a circle. Riddle stood in the center of them, he too was wearing black robes, but he did not have the hood pulled up. She also noted that they seemed to be cut in a different fashion than the others. His black hair was slicked back, but his eyes – which were usually cold and untrusting, seemed even colder. As they all stood around him, not one of the Death Eaters moved or made a sound. She feared that if something didn't happen soon, they would begin to hear her franticly beating heart._

"_Welcome, friends." Riddle said - his voice colder and more frigid than it regularly was. Hermione knew this voice, this was the voice of Lord Voldemort, the voice that had haunted her dreams for weeks. Her body began to freeze over, her blood chilling in her veins. "A month it's been, since our last meeting. I believe some of you were starting to get angsty." He chuckled darkly as he swept over their circle. Some of the others began to chuckle as well, but he silenced them with a glare. "Does anyone have something they wish to report to me? The school has been getting boring lately." He turned away from them and walked to the arm chair that sat before the fire, directly before the circle of Death Eaters. From Hermione's view, it looked like a throne._

_The Death Eaters remained standing, all looking at their leader. A ripple of black moved, and a medium sized boy stood in front of Riddle. His hood was pulled down, revealing a mess of strawberry blonde hair and a round face. The boy looked familiar, but Hermione couldn't place a name on him, until he spoke. "My Lord, my father has sent word from where he is vacationing in France. It appears that Grindlewald is spreading dark tidings throughout the region, gathering more and more of his followers. He attacked several French Ministry buildings, but the French Aurors remained vigilant against him." His voice was slightly rumbling; Hermione recognized him as the notorious Death Eater, Avery – whom she had fought with at the Department of Mysteries. She could still recall the pain she had felt as he had cast the purple light upon her._

_Riddle shifted in his seat. "Wasn't the story in the Prophet, Avery?"_

"_No, My Lord," Avery said nervously. "The Minister didn't want word getting around that Grindlewald was moving closer towards Britain."_

_Riddle sneered coldly. "Cowards. The whole lot of them. Anything else?"_

"_My father also sent word that the French Minister is thinking of making a pact with Grindlewald, to keep him from harming anymore wizards. Apparently, he has attacked several of their department leaders. This was also, not in the Prophet." He finished softly, frightened out of his wits at the expression of boredom on Riddle's face._

"_Very well, Avery. Anyone else?"_

_No one else moved, but from somewhere in the back a voice asked, "My Lord, what is to be done with the Mudblood?"_

_Riddle narrowed his eyes slightly, and Hermione gave a soft snort of indignation. She had expected the topic to pop up sooner or later. She instantly regretted having made the snort because Riddle looked around curiously, glancing over at her corner. His green eyes glanced over where she stood, before turning to look back at the person who had raised the question._

"_Step forward, Nott." He commanded softly. The boy stepped forward, his hood down as well, and bowed before Riddle. "Why would you wish to know what would happen to the Mudblood?"_

"_She has entered into a place where she does not belong. Some of the others, myself included, believe we should teach her a lesson." His voice was deep like Avery's, but he looked much different. Where Avery was rugged, Nott was more elegantly built. His hair was jet black, and cropped short. He had dark brown eyes that appeared almost black, like Snapes eyes, they reflected nothing. It seemed ironic to Hermione that at least 2 of Riddle's followers were handsome, Riddle himself being the handsomest boy there. Nott had been the only one of the Death Eaters, that she recognized, that had still remained handsome in her time. Malfoy being the only exception, seeing as all Malfoy's looked alike._

"_I believe the Mudblood is of high intelligence, Nott. She knows she is not welcome." Riddle hissed. "I believe she can tell when a whole House of Slytherins detests her."_

"_Of course, My Lord." Nott murmured, still not looking at his master._

_Riddle stared at all of his followers, noticing the way they trembled under his gaze, before leaning back in his chair. "The Mudblood is not to be touched. She knows something, perhaps several things, about me. She has even let something slip. I plan to find out what else she knows. I cannot do that if my followers are terrorizing her." His voice was menacing, it sent shivers around the circle, even through Hermione. He stood and walked over to where Nott stood, only a few paces away. "Am I understood Nott?"_

"_Perfectly, My Lord." Nott said, looking up, but avoiding eye contact._

"_Good. That goes for all of you; no one is to touch the Mudblood. Anyone who wishes to challenge me for my claim is free to do so, however…" He did not have to finish the sentence. Everyone in the room knew what would happen if someone interfered with his plans. "Does anyone have any other questions?" No one spoke. "Then we are done here. I shall contact you when the time arises. Dismissed." They all left without another word, robes billowing around them. Only Riddle remained behind, still staring absentmindedly at the corner where Hermione stood, holding her breath in fear. Moments passed before he turned on his heel and walked out of the room._

_Hermione, afraid to leave just yet, remained where she was - watching the door._

"Does something fascinate you so much, Miss. Granger, that you have not heard me calling your name for the last two minutes?" A stern, cold voice asked from beside her table. Hermione jumped slightly and looked up at the old man staring down his nose at her. She blushed and then glanced around the room to find everyone glancing at her curiously.

"No, Professor. I was merely thinking about today's lesson. It seems I got to deep into my thoughts, my apologies." Her blush still continued to stay in her face, but it only seemed to deepen when she felt, rather than saw, the piercing gaze of Riddle land on her.

The old man harrumphed before stating, "Since you are new, I will let it slide this once. Just see that it does not happen again." He turned on his heel and walked back to the front of the class. "Now, I would like you all to form a line, and then begin to practice with the Boggart. Everyone will get a chance to try out the spell, but remember not to laugh. I don't have another Boggart at my disposal. If you have to laugh, laugh at the end of the lesson." He waved his wand, and the desks disappeared. "Remember, the object of this lesson is to discover your greatest fear. Only use _Riddikulus_." Everyone scrambled to form a line, Riddle being the last, right behind Hermione. She ignored him, although she felt his eyes on her. A sleek haired brunette was the first to go; as she stood in front of the wardrobe, Hermione was reminded of her 3rd year. Professor Merrythought opened the door, and a large Dementor appeared. The girl paled, but managed to croak out the spell. A tall boy was the next to go, as soon as he stepped up, a rather frightening clown appeared. He too managed to say the spell, making the clown disappear and turning it into a hat.

They continued this way until it was Hermione's turn. Her heart was thudding in her chest, loud enough that she was sure Riddle could hear it from behind her. She stepped before the remains of Malfoy's Boggart, a small fly that buzzed around before her. She knew what would appear before it changed. There, on the ground, was Harry's dead body. His eyes were open, just like they had been in her time, but there was no sing of life in them. A small whimper escaped her throat, and then Ron was there. His wand was pointing at something ahead of him, but no signs of life were in his eyes either. She heard him say "Go" just like he had before he changed again. Tears were running down her cheeks now, as her true nightmare appeared, the monster that had haunted her dreams and destroyed her world. Pitiless red eyes stared at her, a cruel sneer on the pale, snakelike face of Lord Voldemort. She could hear gasps of shock and fear behind her, but she ignored them. All her attention was focused on what was before her.

"You can do nothing for them now, Mudblood." He hissed at her. "They are gone, and you will soon be gone as well." Hermione could only watch as he advanced towards her. His body moved slowly, stalking forward as he watched her fear filled face. As he was almost in front of her, his features started to change again. Black hair appeared on his head, and the red eyes were replaced. She began to panic, the Boggart was changing into Riddle - who. was. right. behind. her.

"Lord Vol –"

"_RIDDIKULUS_!" She shrieked. The Boggart stopped in it's tracks and changed into a small kitten. Hermione stood there, tears still running down her cheeks, her breathing heavy. Silence echoed around her, but she didn't care. All she could think of doing was running away.

She bolted towards the door and was out before anyone could stop her. She flew down the corridor, not bothering to apologize to the people she ran into, not even stopping when Professor Merrythought stepped out of the classroom to shout, "Miss. Granger, come back!" She didn't stop at all, but just kept running. Tears were pouring thick and fast down her pale cheeks, blurring her vision, but still she did not stop.

**- # -**

The autumn air was cool and crisp, relieving her hot body. She had skipped the rest of her classes and spent the rest of the day underneath the tree by the lake, the one where all three of them had sat after final exams. Her tears had long ago dried up, leaving long tracks down her face.

'_Why did it have to be Boggarts? Why couldn't they practice the spells on something else? Do they not have "magical punching bags" or something like that?' _These were the questions that were constantly running through her head. The "punching bags" would have been so much easier. Now people would be questioning her about who all three of the people the Boggart had changed into were. What happened to them, and why she was afraid. Questions she couldn't answer.

One of the Giant Squids tentacles poked lazily from the surface of the lake. Hermione watched it land on the beach and lay there, before disappearing again under the surface. She sighed heavily, and picked herself up from the ground. The days and lasts nights events had tired her out greatly. Not caring about eating, she walked up to the castle and through the doors. Voices spilled out from the Great Hal, people laughing and enjoying their dinner. She looked over at the doors absentmindedly, before turning away and going down the stairs to the dungeons below. The air was much more frigid and overpowering below ground, than it was above. Hermione found it depressing, much more different than the Gryffindor Common Room, the place she would much rather be in.

"Cunning." She murmured to the wall hiding the Slytherin Common Room. It split apart, and she walked through. No one was there, which she was thankful for. She trudged silently up the stairs and entered the Girls Dormitory side. She entered her room, and lay down on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling until her vision turned blurry, and she closed her eyes. Turning over on her side, she curled up and fell asleep.

**A/N: Read & review please.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Story Summary: **_Evil deals in deception. One by one._ Hermione Granger travels back to the past to change her future. Along the way a certain Dark Lord puts up obstacles to gain her. Will she be able to break her chains, or live in the future she created?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the wonderful world of Harry Potter sniff… **but** if I did, Draco Malfoy would be my personal slave 3333

**-7-**

**C**onfusion was the name of the game in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom after Hermione ran out. The students stood there, staring out the door, not moving or speaking at all.

Tom stood in the same spot, watching her race down the corridor and then disappear. His thoughts were running wild, blocking out all other things around him, leaving him to be swept away in their masses. Who had the black and red haired boys been? Who had the man in the black cloak, with the skeletal white face, and glowing read eyes been? Why had he seemed so familiar? And why had she been so afraid? All so many questions and no answers.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and the students instantly moved towards the door.

Tom walked down the corridor, following where Granger had gone. He was hell bent on finding her, and demanding questions, but decided against it. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared ahead. The Boggart only deepened the mystery of Miss Hermione Granger. He realized, as he had told his Death Eaters, that she knew things about him, and he would learn what they were. She had already let it slip that he was a Half-Blood. She must have known other things as well. When he found those answers, he knew he would find others. Hermione Granger could be a useful tool to him, very useful.

He turned again and walked back down the corridor. His next class was potions, and he didn't want to be late.

* * *

**A** loud ringing was coming from her nightstand. Hermione groaned and turned over in her bed, pulling the covers farther up. The ringing continued to get louder, annoying her to no end. Finally, after five minutes of the persistent ringing, her hand shot out and slammed down on the alarm clock. The ringing stopped instantly, but she found that she couldn't go back to sleep. Poking her head up from under the covers she glanced around the room before pushing them back and stepping onto the floor. She hissed as soon as her feet came in contact with the cold stone floor.

'_Bloody dungeons._'

She glanced at the alarm clock and walked over to her closet. Her uniform was donned in a matter of seconds, her hair pulled up into a ponytail, and her face set in an expression of determination. She had decided last night that the other day's events would not affect her in the slightest. She was accustomed to being talked about behind her back; she could handle it in this time. She stared at herself in the ornate mirror that hung by her bed. No, their words wouldn't affect her. She would ignore them, and their questions. Today, nothing would happen.

**- # -**

**H**ermione walked into the Great Hall, ignoring the instant quiet that radiated from around the hall as soon as she stepped through the door. She walked swiftly towards the Slytherin Table and sat at the end. She could feel millions of eyes on her, but merely picked up a biscuit in front of her and began buttering it. As soon as she bit into it, the talking started again.

'_This is beginning to happen a lot.'_ She thought, smirking. _'Two days in a row and already I'm being talked about more than I need to be.' _She took a sip of her pumpkin juice and then took the opportunity to look around. Her eyes instantly met Riddle's cold green eyes. Instantly Hermione put up barriers around her mind, remembering that Harry had once told her Riddle had been a master Occlumens. She set down the goblet, not breaking the contact, but merely hardening her gaze. She could practically feel the arrogance rolling off of him from where she sat. She knew he expected to win the challenge, but she would not give him the satisfaction.

A cough came from behind her, breaking the contact and making her eyes turn to the person. Dumbledore stood behind her, his periwinkle blue eyes serious and concerned.

"Miss Granger, I was hoping I could speak with," He glanced over at Riddle, who was still looking over at her, but his expression had changed to one of hidden curiosity. "In my office." He added, looking back at her.

Hermione looked at her mentor questioningly before replying, "Of course, Professor." She stood and brushed her ropes of imaginary lint before walking after the old man. Eyes followed her, but the talking did not cease this time, for which she was grateful. She followed Dumbledore, silently asking herself what he wanted. She suspected he wanted to talk about what had happened in the Dark Arts classroom, knowing that she had not done anything else wrong. Either that or he wanted to know why she had skipped all of her classes that day.

They stopped before his office. "In here please, Miss Granger." He said, holding the door open. When she had walked through, he swept past her and placed himself behind his desk. Hermione sat as well, staring at anything but at the old man.

Dumbledore, sensing her anticipation, coughed before saying, "It has come to my attention that yesterday, during your Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, you got quite the fright from the Boggart you were practicing on. And from the looks of it, you really got quite the fright. Skipping all of your classes?" He looked over his half-moon spectacles at her. She shifted uncomfortably, dropping her head down. "Miss Granger, I am not scolding or punishing you," Dumbledore said gently. She looked up at him. "I am merely concerned. Whatever it was you saw, affected you greatly. Would you care to tell me what it was?"

Hermione gazed at her teacher thoughtfully. Should she tell him what it was she had seen - what everyone had seen? Or should she just tell him she was fine and head to her classes? She chose to tell him, seeing as he **was **only trying to help.

She took a shaky breath before saying, "I saw, my friends from my time, and the person who had killed them." Her voice was shaking slightly, but she continued. "Both of them are dead, and I couldn't do anything to help them." Hermione looked down at her clasped hands. "And, the murderer, he's always in my nightmares. I keep reliving that night, over and over again. I can't seem to get their blank faces out of my mind. Nor can I get rid of Vol- the murderer's words out of my head." She had only just caught her words in time. She had been about to say 'Voldemort' but remembered that if she revealed any information about the future, catastrophic events would follow. She looked back up at Dumbledore and found the old man's eyes full of kindness and concern.

"You have been through a great deal, Hermione. Not many your age have had to go through what you have," he chuckled when she gave a small snort. "You have probably heard that many times, but I like it to stay in your mind." He stood from his chair and walked over to a cabinet that stood next to one of his bookshelves. Opening the door, he pulled out a round basin of some sorts and placed it upon the desk in front of Hermione. She gazed down into the foggy liquid that lay in it and immediately recognized the pensive Harry had described to her so many times.

"Professor?" she asked , looking up at him.

"That, Miss Granger, is a pensive, which I give to you so that you may let some of your thoughts leave your head." Dumbledore explained cheerfully. Hermione noticed the twinkle in his eyes had returned, though she had not noticed it leave until then.

"Oh, no Professor! I couldn't possibly – " She exclaimed, her mouth rushing to make excuses.

Dumbledore gave a hearty chuckle. "Nonsense Miss Granger. I give it to you as a gift. If you like, you may return it once you have completed your task." He must have seen that she was about to protest again, for he held up a hand and said, "I insist that you accept this gift, Miss Granger. I can not have one of my students being plagued by persistent thoughts. It is not good for them." He walked over towards her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Now, I believe it is time for you to go to your first class. I shall write Professor Merrythought a note, explaining your absence." He produced a quill and some parchment and sat down at his desk to write. Hermione stood as he finished and smiled brightly at him before turning towards the door and exiting the office.

* * *

**T**om watched Granger walk away with Dumbledore, his eyes following them until they both vanished from his sight. He felt curiosity at what Dumbledore wanted to talk to her about, knowing that it would only add more questions to his already growing list. He looked down at his plate, his eyes hooded in thought.

'_He could want to talk to her about what happened in class the other day.' _He mused silently. _'But if he does, why couldn't Professor Slughorn do it? He is our Head of House. Then again, Dumbledore is the nosiest of the teachers. He probably wants to know who the Boggart changed into and why Granger was afraid of them.' _He closed his eyes in frustration and then stood swiftly, pushing all thoughts out of his mind. Right now, he needed to focus on getting to his first class, however useless it might be.

No one followed him, not even Abraxus. They could all tell that their leader was very deep in his thoughts and did not want to be disturbed. Tom could hear the padding of his feet on the stone floor of the corridor as he made his way up the many stairs to the Dark Arts room. He always enjoyed the quiet, preferring it just like he preferred darkness to light. In silence, he could think of many things, come up with plans and schemes. In crowded places full of noise and bustle, he could not get a single thought to come to his brain. No plans formulated, no schemes. Silence was like darkness. Comforting and inviting.

The classroom was empty of people from what Tom could tell as he approached the open door. He peered inside and saw no one there, so walked over to his desk and sat down. His gaze immediately fell on the painting Granger had been gawking at the previous day. From what he could see, nothing was special about it. To him it seemed like a normal, boring painting. But something about it had caught her eye, something had made her stare at it, as if she was being hypnotized.

'_Why do I think about her so much?'_ Tom asked himself silently. His thoughts had truly been occupied by the mysterious Mudblood almost every minute, of every hour, ever since she had appeared in the Forbidden Forest. _'What power does she hold over me?'_ She had to have done something to make him think of her constantly.

'_It's because I want to find out what she knows,' _He reasoned. _'She knows things that she is not letting out at the moment. But she will – in time.'_

"In time." He murmured to himself. Suddenly, he heard footsteps and voices from outside in the corridor. He stood swiftly and walked over to the window, pretending to be looking down at the grounds below. His classmates entered, and upon seeing him there instantly stopped talking. He smirked to himself, they were all cowards, the whole lot of them. He straightened his robes. It was exhilarating, the knowledge that he cause fear to spike into their hearts. He turned to sit back at his desk and watched Abraxus enter the room, followed by his other followers. All of them nodded their heads in respect and averted their eyes.

All the students had seated themselves when Professor Merrythought swept into the room. Tom watched the old man's eyes instantly sweep to where Granger sat. He saw the slight concern in the black depths and he felt disgust for the old man. Who would ever feel concern for a Mudblood? Certainly not him.

"Good Morning Class." Merrythought said in his stern voice. The class repeated the mantra back and then sat expectantly waiting for Merrythought to begin the lesson. "Today we will –" The door opened and in stepped the Mudblood that had been muddling his thoughts. Everyone's eyes instantly went to her as she silently approached Merrythought and handed him a piece of parchment. The old man glanced over it once and then nodded curtly to the brunette.

Tom's eyes followed her as she made her way over to her desk and placed her things upon it. He knew that she knew he was watching her by the way she stiffened under his gaze. Seeing her body tense up made him smirk in triumph. But when she turned to look back at him, he felt the smirk wipe of his face. Her brown eyes glared at him, expressing such a depth of hatred and loathing that shocked even him. There was another thing to add to his list, why she hated him.

Merrythought cleared his throat, bringing the attention of the class back to him. "As I was saying, today we will not be working with Boggarts." He looked at Granger. "Instead you will be taking notes on ways to conquer your fears, so that your enemies can not use them against you." He turned towards the board and tapped it with his wand. Words instantly started to appear. "Take out a piece of parchment and begin." The class scrambled to do as told and soon all that could be heard was the scratching of quills.

_Fear is a commonly used tool of Dark Wizards. There are many creatures that are used to bring the fear forward: Dementors, Boggarts, Werewolves; etc._

_The only way to release your fear is to confront it head on. Facing your fears, whether they be a fear of heights, the dark, water, broomsticks; etc. is not an easy task. You need to realize that your fear is not real; it is just an expression of regret that develops when you leave the safety of your element. The ground for example, many witches and wizards, muggles as well, have a fear of heights. This occurs when they have not left the ground for some time._

_Many witches and wizards face this 'fear' by performing calming spells and using potions to relax themselves as they do what they are afraid of, hence going to new heights and elevations. The calming spells or potions **do not** get rid of your fear, but mainly help you to face them._

_It is not a good idea to suppress your fear. Dark wizards and witches are excellent in discovering your fears and using them against you. The most common wizard known in this day and age to use fear against other witches and wizards, is the Dark wizard Grindlewald. Many witches and wizards have been driven mad by his techniques, others simply 'dying of fright'._

Tom glanced over his notes and then looked up at the board. Professor Merrythought had left the room, leaving Tom free to glance around the room, seeing as he was done. Only one other person was finished as well, Granger. He was a little shocked, usually everyone else was slow when it came to note taking, it prolonged the lesson. But there she sat playing with her quill, looking out the window at the grounds below. She looked like she was deep in thought, completely unaware of his gaze.

Completely unaware… that he could go into her mind.

Tom had been practicing Legilimens and Occlumency ever since his third year. Every night he had wiped his mind of any emotions and had practiced erecting barriers around his mind. Now, he was probably the most accomplished Legilimens in the whole Wizarding World, aside from Dumbledore. Releasing himself of all emotion and clearing his mind, he let out a sigh and sent out a tendril of his mind to Granger's brain. He was met with no resistance from her mind, no barriers erected to block him out; he smiled to himself as he slipped deeper into her mind.

He instantly headed to any memories that concerned him, but he came up empty handed. Disappointed, he searched for other useful memories of her past. He passed by a few boring memories, some of them containing the images of the red and black haired boy that the Boggart had changed into. He could not find any of the skeletal man, save for a few flashes. He sifted through memories of her sitting by the lake outside, underneath the large oak tree and of her in the library.

He then came across a rather interesting memory. A dark sitting room, 12 boys and one other sitting apart from them. Tom instantly recognized it as the Room of Requirement that he had thought up for his Death Eater's meeting.

A powerful force gripped his mind, and he was thrown from her mind. He landed back in his own, bewildered and shocked. No one had ever been able to do that. Opening his eyes, he looked at her and found that she was looking at him, her eyes narrowed. She was panting slightly, her skin pale. He could see hatred and anger reflected in her amber eyes and narrowed his in response. He didn't know how she had thrown him out; he was more powerful than her any day.

He was about to try and reenter her mind, when Merrythought entered the room and tapped his wand against the board, signaling the continuation of the lesson.

**TBC**

**Next Chapter:**

"_Isn't it funny that I found something in your mind that shouldn't have been there?" He asked, stepping closer, forcing her to take a step back._

"_I don't know what you're talking about." She snapped._

"_Oh, I think you do."_


	8. Chapter 7 Part Two

**

* * *

**

Chapter Seven Cont.

* * *

**A**fter Defense Against the Dark Arts had ended, Hermione didn't even glance at Riddle, who she knew was watching her. Instead of heading directly to Potions, she stalked down to her dorm her mind steaming with suppressed rage. She didn't even notice the looks other students were giving her as she pushed people in the hall. Some of them were looks of shock that turned into looks of anger and disgust. No one wanted to be touched by the "filthy Mudblood". But she didn't notice, nor care. The only thought that was running through her mind was: _pensive._

"Cunning," she barked at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. The wall slid open, revealing the green and silver decorated room. No one, but a few sixth years was there, all which were on their breaks. Not one of them looked up from what they were doing as she hurtled up the stairs and down the hall to her room. Her door was nearly ripped of its hinges as she flew in, her wand already drawn and at her temple. Hardly bothering to look for the Pensive (which she had placed in a secret location after putting the memories of the battle with Voldemort into small un-breakable bottles), she quickly called for it. It came it her in a blur of colors, flying instantly into her hands.

"Bloody bastard, thinking he can enter my mind," she growled to herself as she placed memory after memory into the swirling silver mist. After each one had played, she conjured up more of the un-breakable bottles she had used for their previous ones. "Don't know who the hell he thinks he is. 'Dark Lord' or not, he has no right. I'll show him-" She placed each memory into a bottle, sealing them magically. Anyone who tried to get into them to view their contents would need a sample of her blood. It was crude magic, borderline Dark to have a spell include blood. Only when the intentions were good, did the magic not take some of your life force. Hermione placed each bottle into the magical safe she had made the day before and locked it. "Let's see you find anything in there now." She hissed as she slammed the door behind her.

**&&**

Tom was bewildered as he watched the Mudblood enter Potions, ten minutes after the bell had rang. Her face was slightly red, but she was still like he had observed- collected and composed. He watched as she spoke to Professor Slughorn, who nodded in understanding as she fed him an explanation to her lateness. The old man nodded to her once again, and she flashed him an appreciating smile before walking to an empty seat at the back of the classroom.

He felt her angry gaze land on him as she sat down, and smirked. But his smirk soon died down as he thought about the memory he had seen. No one else had been in the Room of Requirement while he had been there. He had the suspicion that she had been hiding under and Invisibility Cloak, if she had been there at all. He recalled the small gasp he had heard come from a corner of the room. Someone had been there, he was sure of it. And Granger had a memory of what had happened. She had definitely been there.

"Good morning class!" Slughorn said happily as he waddled around the room, looking at each and every one of them. When his eyes passed over Tom, he smiled and winked. He then turned back towards the front and stood in front of a large black cauldron. "Today, we are going to be partnering up. You will be making Imore Tanium," A jolt of excitement went through Tom's body. Imore Tanium… that would be useful. He glanced around the room and noticed the Gryffindors and Slytherins in the class glaring at each other. He smirked, knowing that Slughorn, who prized him, would never place him with a Gryffindor. "Now, when I call your name, stand and sit next to your partner." Producing a list of partners, Slughorn glanced down the list and began to read of the names: Avery and Nott, Peter Parkinson (a large pug faced boy) and Jeremiah Flint (a roguish boy with thick arms that could crush a tree, and beady black eyes), Armies Black (another dark haired boy who was quiet and sullen) and Adam Weasley (an annoying Gryffindor that always seemed to eat everything in his sight during meals), Eileen Prince (a black haired girl with cold black eyes and a small hooked nose) and, much to Tom's disappointment, Granger. After that announcement, he had lost interest in the pairs, mainly focusing on the things he had observed in Granger's mind. He only looked up when Abraxus sat down next to him.

He looked at the other boy from the corner of his eye, noting happily that he had only set down his possessions before striding up the isle to get the ingredients. This gave him time to observe Granger, who was also sitting at her table – waiting for Prince to return with the ingredients. Her head was also bowed in thought, her curly hair falling down her shoulders to obscure her face. She held a quill in her hand, which she tapped against the desk in a steady rhythm.

How had that memory been in her mind? He had been so sure that no one else had been in the Room of Requirement; so sure. But yet there he had been, regaling his plan to his Death Eaters in her mind. It just didn't add up.

_Unless,_ he thought, _She had been there the whole time, but… how?_

His dark green eyes swept over her, and then flickered around the room. Only when his gaze washed over the chalkboard did it strike him.

Imore Tanium. The most powerful _invisibility_ potion on Earth. The potion used to make _Invisibility Cloaks_. Granger must have been in the room before him, and, knowing that he was coming inside, had hidden herself underneath an Invisibility Cloak; shielding her from his view! It all made perfect sense. And then the small gasp he had heard come from a corner of the room, obviously it had come from her. She had been startled at what he had said, and had been unable to keep back the terror she felt.

A slow sneer began to form on his face as he turned his eyes away from the answer before him, and the problem that still needed an answer. Prince had returned to the working area and had settled down to work, completely ignoring Granger. The other girl didn't look too happy about this, but did not push the subject. Instead, she silently handed the hook nosed girl ingredients and occasionally glanced around the room. Only once did her gaze flick towards him, but then it quickly turned away.

Something jarred his elbow, breaking his train of thought. Angrily, he turned and found a frightened Abraxus handing him a jar of Pickled Beetles. The blonde had just returned from bringing the ingredients needed to make the complex potion, and had obviously been unaware that his master had been deep in thought. Taking pity on him, Tom merely threatened that if he ever interrupted his thinking again, he would suffer the consequences at the next meeting. Having said that, he began to work on chopping up the beetles and placing them in the cauldron in front of him.

**&&**

_Ashwinder Eggs… Pickled Beetles… Asphodel Root… Bicorn Horn…_ Hermione ran the list of ingredients off in her head as she watched Eileen Prince prepare the potion. _Daisy Roots… Fluxweed… Hellebore._ The list continued, but at that moment something in Hermione clicked. Eileen Prince. Snape's mother. The woman she had researched and dubbed the "Half-Blood Prince" in her sixth year, was her potions partner. Of course she had been struck by a sense of familiarity, but she had clearly forgotten who she had been.

Sure enough, the hooked nose and cold black eyes should have been a dead giveaway. Hermione had spent more than five years with her old Potions Master in this very dungeon, and one in the old Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. And even she should have been able to see the similarity between mother and son. The physical appearance was one thing, although she did think that Snape looked more like his father, but the other odd tidbits should have pointed it out sooner. For one, the look of disgust and contempt the girl had given her upon discovering she was to be her potions partner, all because of her blood. And then there was the fact that Professor Slughorn seemed to have made her name sound like it was a revered Goddess. Hermione knew that she had been a great Potions maker, which was where Snape got his natural talent, but never that good. It reminded her of whenever Slughorn had said his name in her time, like he deserved to be recognized as Eileen Prince's and Tobias Snapes' son.

There was also the stony silence that lay between the two of them. For all the time she had been his student, Hermione knew that Snape preferred the quiet over the loud hustle and bustle that normally filled other classrooms- with the exception of Professor McGonagall's. Apparently, so did Eileen. She had not spoken to Hermione once, nor asked her for any help. Instead she had taken it upon herself to do the whole assignment, and leave Hermione to do nothing. It was completely new to her, being the only one competent enough, besides Draco Malfoy, to be able to finish a potion correctly. She had always been needed to do the whole thing, not sitting in the background and watching someone else do the work. It was completely new, and totally unwanted.

Deciding that the silence had gone on long enough, and that she should be helping as well, Hermione opened her mouth and cleared her throat.

"Um… excuse me, should I not be helping as well?" She asked in a soft, quiet voice. Instantly she regretted ever opening her mouth. As soon as she had uttered the first syllable, the other girl had stiffened and slowly turned her head to glare at her. She looked just like Snape when he was angry, the way her eyes had hardened to two points of black ice, and how her jaw had begun to clench with suppressed fury. For a moment it felt like she had broken some sort of unspoken rule, a rule which had seemed to keep Eileen's world in perfect balance.

A moment went past where neither of them spoke, before Eileen turned her head back to the simmering potion. She had not even answered the question, much less told Hermione she could do anything.

Getting slightly annoyed, she opened her mouth once more. "Excuse me. I asked you a quest-"

"Quiet." A dangerously soft voice said.

Shocked, Hermione stared at the girl before her. "W-what?" She asked.

Eileen turned around. "I said, 'Quiet'. I need to concentrate." She spoke in the same soft voice she had spoken in before, and Hermione noticed yet again another similarity between her and Snape. Both had the same soft, yet deadly, voices. Like a blade a covered in silk that could tear it at any moment.

"I-I'm sorry, I was just merely asking you if I could do something." Hermione retorted, her voice quavering a bit. It was completely uncanny how much Eileen Prince acted like her son.

Eileen's eyes flashed. "Well don't." She said coldly and then turned to start working again.

Taken aback, Hermione could only sit there for a few minutes in complete silence. But then the defiant edge in her personality, one which she used quite a lot with Harry and Ron, came forth. Soon she was over her shock, and standing next to the cauldron. Annoyed and irritated at being ignored she glanced at the board and read the next line of instructions. She knew that Eileen had done the previous ones, so without looking at her partner once, she reached across the desk and picked up a bowl full of decapitated caterpillars. But before she could place some in the cauldron, Eileen's cold voice asked coldly:

"What do you think your doing?"

Hermione didn't even look at her, but said in an evenly cool voice, "I am putting in the caterpillars inside the cauldron and then stirring it so that the potion will begin to turn silver. And then you will put in the crushed Salamander tail." She glanced up to see an expression of cold fury placed on Eileen's face.

"No. You won't." Eileen said before reaching out a pale hand and trying to snatch the bowl of decapitated caterpillars from Hermione's hands. Furious with the girls' refusal to let her do anything, Hermione tugged the bowl towards her; but Eileen wouldn't have it. Soon they were both tugging at the bowl, scattering caterpillars everywhere.

Only when Professor Slughorn appeared next to their cauldron did they let the bowl go.

"Girls. Girls! What in Merlin's name are you doing?!" he shouted at them. Frightened, Hermione dropped the bowl of caterpillars into the already bubbling cauldron. Instantly, a large cloud of smoke erupted and filled the classroom with the smell of rotten eggs and decomposing caterpillar bodies. The class began to cough violently, most of them gagging on the smell.

"Now look what you've done!" Eileen shrieked.

"Me! You are the one who did this. If you had let me do some-" Hermione began, but was interrupted with Slughorns shout.

"Quiet, the both of you!" His face was slightly purple, and no longer was he the jolly man that had greeted her in both this time and hers. He looked more like an angry walrus who had just had his favorite fish stolen by another walrus, than like the teacher she had come to like. "Now, I would like one of you to **calmly** tell me why you two were fighting over a bowl of caterpillars."

Eileen began to open her mouth, but Hermione beat her to it. "Well, you see Professor, this wouldn't have happened if Prince," she threw the other girl a dark look. "Hadn't decided that she should be the one to do all the work. I was merely trying to get the potion over and done with, but obviously I was unable to do that. Prince couldn't stand the thought of me messing up her _perfect_ potion."

Slughorn looked slightly taken aback as he looked at one of his favorite students. "Ms. Prince, is this true?" The other girl didn't answer, but merely glared at Hermione. Slughorn looked back at Hermione and then sighed. "Never," he said. "In all my twenty years of being a teacher here, have I ever met a student who - on her first day in my class – has caused me to give her and another of my students, detention. Tonight at eight o' clock."

Eileen looked scandalized. "Professor! Please recon-"

Slughorn sighed. "I wish I could reconsider, Ms. Prince. But both you _and_ Ms. Granger were in the wrong about this." He turned a stern eye upon Hermione. "Is all of this understood, Ms. Granger?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Slughorn smiled slightly. "Good," he looked around at everyone else. "Finish up everyone. I will be inspecting your potions to see if they are the desired color soon." With that said, he waddled away from the two girls, and began to inspect the cauldrons that had already turned silver.

Hermione sighed and looked down at the ruined potion. Instead of the light blue it had been, it was now a violent orange. Just like Ron's room. There would be no way to save it.

"This is all **your** fault." Eileen's angry voice accused her.

Hermione glared at her. "Mine? You're the one who wouldn't let me do anything. This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't tried to take the damn caterpillars away."

Eileen's eyes flashed. "You shouldn't have touched them in the first place!"

Hermione laughed coldly. "What? You didn't want your _precious potion_ ruined by my Mudblood filth?"

Eileen looked startled for a second, but the expression quickly changed into a cold sneer. "Exactly."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Satisfied that the girl was silent Eileen turned on her heel and began to try and save the wrecked potion, leaving Hermione to envision dark things happening to Snapes mother.

**&&**

"I hope you will both remember that fighting is not the wisest thing to do in a Potions Classroom," Slughorn said pleasantly as both Eileen and Hermione strode from his classroom, both covered in thick layers of dust. "For one, it's very dangerous, and it will also get you in trouble." He winked at them, which caused Hermione to smile and giggle a little bit. Eileen just stood there in stony silence, her face like a mask. Slughorn smiled at them. "See to it that it doesn't happen again."

"Of course, sir." Hermione said softly. Eileen merely nodded.

"Good!" Slughorn said jovially. He then glanced down at a watch the covered his thick wrist. "You had best be off now, wouldn't want Hawkins to catch you two out of bed would we?" Hawkins was the caretaker of the time. Hermione had yet to run into him, but she knew that he was supposedly nothing like Filtch.

"No, Sir. Good night!" Hermione called after her as she turned towards the Slytherin Common Room, Eileen already ahead of her. The dungeons were beyond cold at night, causing her breath to fan out in front of her. She walked along in silence, occasionally glancing at the tapestries and portraits that lined the walls. The tapestries had the Slytherin crest upon them, while the portraits were of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses that had been in Slytherin. Phineus Nigelius was among their numbers, with the same goatee and hair as in her time. He was sleeping soundly, and didn't even stir when she walked past.

Eventually she came upon the entrance and spoke the password. The stone wall opened and she walked through, not even bothering to glance around to see if anyone was around.

But as soon as a cold voice rang out behind her, she wished she had.

"Enjoy detention, Granger?"

Whirling around, Hermione was met with the sight of Tom Riddle sitting in front of the fireplace. He was only a couple feet away, but she was close enough to see the flames flickering in his cold eyes. He appeared to still be in his school uniform, although it was absent of the silver and green tie.

Hermione sneered at him. "What do you think Riddle?"

He sneered back, but it was a thousand times more sinister. "Forgive me, I should have asked 'how was detention with Prince?'"

She shrugged and then looked at him with mock astonishment. "Really, Riddle. One would think you care about how my detention went."

He laughed and stood up. The laugh sent a chill down the entirety of her spine, making her shiver. His footsteps were light upon the stone floor, giving him the appearance of weightlessness. He reminded her of a snake, which was what he was, a snake that was coiled up and waiting to strike at any moment.

Suddenly he was in front of her, his dark green eyes boring into her own. Startled, she stepped backwards away from him and nearly crashed into a corner table. She blushed as she straightened the items that lay on it, not looking at Riddle.

"Frightened, Granger?" He asked silkily.

She dared a glance up at him and asked defiantly, "Why should I be?"

He chuckled. "There are many things you should be afraid of Granger."

She laughed coldly. "Are you one of them?" He merely smirked at her. "Because I'm not frightened of you."

His eyes hardened. "Then that's a mistake on your part."

She raised her chin. "Why should I be afraid of you?"

A strange glitter filled his eyes. "I think we both know the answer to that." He stepped closer to her, placing his hand almost directly over hers. She flinched visibly and hurriedly moved away from him, withdrawing her hand as if it had been burned.

"Sorry?" She asked, putting up an air of confusion. She knew what he was talking about though. He was trying to get her to admit that she was afraid of him by bringing up what she had seen in the Room of Requirement. Decidedly it wasn't the best move, but it was the perfect opportunity to find out more information.

He sneered at her. "There's no use playing innocent, _Hermione_."

She smiled at him. "What would I be playing innocent about, _Tom_?" She shuddered inwardly at the use of both her name, and his. It sounded so foreign, coming from her mouth. His name was like poison.

His eyes flashed once more. She could practically see the wheels turning in his mind, thinking up new ways to trap her. And then the air around him changed from coldness, to mock pleasantness.

"Let us skip this part, shall we? You know that I was in your mind today. I know it as well." He said calmly, once more stepping closer.

Anger instantly rose up in her. "Yes, you were. And you should know that I don't appreciate my mind being invaded like that." She snarled at him.

He smiled pleasantly at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yes, well… I shall remember that **next** time."

"I don't think there will be a next time," she growled at him. "Unless you would like to see what your next life looks like."

He chuckled, but ignored this statement. "Isn't it funny that I found something in your mind that should not have been there?" He asked, stepping closer, forcing her to take a step back.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She snapped.

"Oh, I think you do." He said softly, stepping even closer. But she could not back up any farther. She had stupidly backed herself up against the wall, with no way of escape, and he was coming closer. She nervously glanced around for some way to escape, but didn't see one. Slowly, she turned her head back towards Riddles direction, but was once again met with his cold eyes. The world seemed to turn to slow motion, like in the movies she liked to go see with her parents over Summer Vacations. The ones where the hero was about to get shot, and you could see the bullet shoot from the gun. And then when it was all over, the world returned to fast pace.

She watched in slow motion as a slow smirk grew on his face and a hand reached towards her hair. She watched as one of his fingers snared one of her curls and wound it around his finger. And then he was leaning towards her ear.

"You seem afraid of me now." He hissed, tickling her ear with his hot breath.

This statement brought the world back to fast pace. Angrily she turned her head to meet his amused eyes, and said through gritted teeth, "I am not afraid of you, Riddle."

Once more his eyes flashed, but this time it wasn't with anger or amusement. The "emotion" that had crossed his eyes had been something completely unidentifiable to Hermione. It puzzled her, but she chose to ignore it, and instead focused on what Riddle was beginning to say.

"What did you hear in the Room of Requirement?"

The question startled her, but she masked it. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Riddle."

All patience disappeared from him, as did the pleasant air surrounding him. "Didn't we get past this part, Granger." He seized her arms. "I know you were there. I saw it in your mind, and I heard you gasp. Now I want to know what all you heard and what you were doing there."

Hermione stared at him, her face scrunched up in pain. His grip was like iron hands with claws, his fingernails were digging into her arms. "What is it with you and man-handling girls, Riddle?! This is the second times you have placed your hands on me," She hissed at him. "And what makes you think **I **would tell **you** what I was doing in this… Room of Requirement?"

His grip tightened. "I am not one to be trifled with, Mudblood. You **will **tell me what you were doing there. Or you **will** suffer the consequences."

"You can't do a thing to me, Riddle." She said, laughing in his face.

"I can do more to you than you think," He hissed. "I am Lord Voldemort."

She stared hard into his eyes. "You are nothing more than a fake."

Rage filled his eyes. She instantly recognized that she had gone too far. He looked murderous, with his normally pale skin even paler and his eyes flashing red. _Wait. Red?_ She thought, looking closer at his eyes. Indeed, his eyes were flashing red. A chilling wave of horror crashed over her as she realized what this meant.

_He's created a Horcrux…_

A gasp left her lips, and instantly she was shoving him away from her. She must have put a little more force behind it, for he nearly toppled over. But instead he regained his balance, but his rage seemed to intensify. He made his way back to her, but she didn't notice at all. She was too busy rubbing her shoulders and forearms where he had touched her. Chills were erupting all over her body as she stuck herself into her thoughts. She had hoped she could stop him before he was able to make a Horcrux, make it so that he was not immortal. It was not comforting knowing that she was already too late, that one of the monstrosities he called pieces of his _i soul /i _had already been created. It was not comforting knowing that she had no idea what it was - although she had a pretty good guess.

He had already become even more of a monster. And it was already becoming too late to do anything about it.

**A/N: Sorry that it's been so long since I last updated. I forgot to post this chapter after I was done, so... Sorry!**


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